Knowledge is Power, Work is Worship

V/A — Coronation Issue: Selected Nepalese Folk Songs & Tunes

I found this record at a shop in Munich. It's a collection of "folk songs" and "folk tunes" from Nepal, issued by the Shree Ratna Recording Corporation in 1975. Ratna Records was (and may still be) the state run recording and releasing arm of the national Radio Nepal.

I put folk songs and folk tunes in quotes, because the songs on this record and from the Ratna label in general aren't purely folk. It's not easy finding info about Nepalese music on the internet; what I have found is either in academese or very dry (though informative). General consensus from the sources is that Nepalese popular music in the 20th century, especially from the 50s and 60s onward, is a mixture of local folk musics with indian ragas and western music (both pop and classical).

These three forms mix perfectly to form a style wholly different. A lot of the instruments are either common to or borrowed from India—most notably the percussion used throughout this record. But the melodies are quite different from the Indian musics I've heard and are often played on western instruments: violin, organ, guitar, etc. I'm guessing the melodies are based on folk forms.

The closest comparison I can think of is Bayon, the east-German/Cambodian 70s krautish group. Especially my favorite song from the record: Prem Dhoj's "Yo Naniko Siraima" (Nepalese pop songs are titled by their first lyrics).

I have a few more 7" EPs from the Ratna label that are just as great. I will be posting them in the coming weeks. As well, one can find many Nepalese songs on the WNSO website, though most of the songs I've heard there are heavily synth-laced.

Llllllaaaaallllllloooooo

I put the 45 rpm single of the Lalo Schifrin soundtrack to Che! down on my record player, but forgot to switch to 45 rpm. I think it actually sounded better on 33 1/3 rpm. Listen for yourself. Of course you'll want to compare it to the original, which can find on the internet, I'm sure.



I haven't heard much Lalo Schifrin. Or well, I haven't listened to very much Lalo Schifrin—as in given a concentrated listen to something I chose to hear. We've all heard him, extensively probably. After all, he did write the Mission Impossible theme song, as well as other notable tunes.

It's been almost a year and a half since the last time I posted to this blag; two years since a post of any real substance. Finding time's not so easy. Actually, that's not true. Finding time when I'm not tired or wouldn't prefer just completely vegetating— that's not easy. But I've been buying strange records that have never been and never will be on CD, nor reissued on LP; many of them I don't expect to ever see in a shop ever again. And I plan to resume transferring them to my computer and posting them.

This isn't one of them. You can find the Che! soundtrack easily, probably on CD even. Though, slowing the CD down isn't as simple.

Ja Ja Ja...

I'm not really one for the youtube video posting, but I was really surprised when I stumbled across the video below. It took me 10 years to find an Aventuras de Kirlian record. I finally managed to get my hands on one of their singles. It's more awesome than I expected. Then I saw that there's a video on youtube.

CGYT on WHFR (8)

Last week's show was full of short songs, which is kinda taxing, since neither of my record players can cue. So this week I went with long songs. I hadn't exactly planned it to go that way, though. I was looking for something relaxing, and I was listening to 10,000 Maniacs (I know, but you really should hear their song "Tension") and thinking of the Julius Eastman compilation Unjust Malaise that I just bought. Somehow that lead me to start with Pauline Oliveros, except I didn't start with Pauline Oliveros:

CGYT on WHFR no. 8 (broadcast July 6th, 2008)

Megan Roberts, "I Could Sit Here All Day,"
     New Music For Electronic And Recorded Media
Pauline Oliveros, "I of IV,"
     New Sounds In Electronic Music
Michael Nyman, "1-100,"
     Decay Music
Bobby Naughton, "Ordette,"
     The Haunt

I'm posting this before the actual show airs; so here's a reminder: you can listen to it as it's broadcast on Washington Heights Free Radio by going to WHFR.org.

Unrelated: I was urged by a friend to try recording again. I think the last time I tried to record anything was last summer, when I recorded this heavily-Laurie-Spiegel-inspired thing. I recently got sheet music for a bunch of Wim Mertens stuff, so I thought I'd try my hand at something from him. What I'm aiming for is a version of the 5-piece "Struggle for Pleasure" on saxophone, organ, and melodica, with hand percussion (maybe). My organ skills are horrible though, so it's gonna be a while. Here is what I have so far, which sounds nothing like Mertens', nor anything like what I'm aiming for, but was fun to make.

CGYT on WHFR (7)

What happened to four, five, six? They'll be posted soon. Along with my last DJ night recording, maybe. Along with maybe some new records soon.

My right turntable seems to have a problem. I'm not really sure what's causing it, first the right channel goes a bit low, then gets fuzzy, then the needle starts to skip. Happens with many records—including some on this show, so excuse the occasional skip. Also excuse the incredibly poor condition of "Carrie-Anne," I forgot that it sounds like a song pressed onto a piece of sandpaper.

CGYT on WHFR no. 7 (broadcast June 29th, 2008)

Isao Tomita, "'Star Wars' Main Title"
Buddy Holly, "Crying, Waiting, Hoping"
Roy Orbison, "Crying"
Cliff Richard, "The Young Ones"
Petula Clark, "Downtown"
Cat Stevens, "Lovely City,"
     Very Young and Early Songs
Everly Brothers, "Cathy's Clown"
The Hollies, "Carrie Anne"
The Coasters, "Zing! Went the Strings of My Heart"
The Impacts, "Tears"
Them, "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue"
Kenny Rogers & The First Edition, "Ruby, Don't Take Your Love To Town"
Loudon Wainwright, "Clockwork Chartreuse,"
     Attempted Mustache
Richard and Linda Thompson, "I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight,"
     I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight
Joe South, "These Are Not My People"
The Kinks, "Apeman,"
     Lola versus Powerman and The Moneygoround
Hunger, "Workshop,"
     Endless Journey: Phase Two
The Music Box, "Take A Look Outside"
The Blackbirds, "Golden Sun,"
     No Destination
West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, "Transparent Day,"
     Part One
Dion, "Josie"

I picked up the 1-buck Buddy Holly, Roy Orbison, and Cliff Richards best-ofs in the last week, and was motivated to pull out some of the light pop I have on hand. It's summer, it's either that or a Jamaican themed show. I thought I might do an entire show of songs that skip. Maybe next week.

CGYT on WHFR (3)

Last night's Come Get Your Tomorrow (number 3, MP3 and playlist below) had a bit of an Asian theme. I've been reading The Last Samurai by Helen Dewitt (the book has nothing to do with that movie with the midget from Top Gun) and there's lots in that about The Seven Samurai, and so I was also then listening to some Kurosawa soundtracks. Radio show no. 3 starts out with a Masaru Sato song from Sanjuro, which is followed by some Japanese and Chinese pop, and then some Indian stuffs, which leads into jazz, and um, Donovan.

CGYT on WHFR no. 3 (broadcast May 18th, 2008)

Playlist:

(I can't recall exactly what all of them are and some are also not in languages I understand, but I'll fill in the blanks later.)

—, "?,"
     ?kids record?
Masaru Satô, "Sanjuro,"
     Sanjuro
?, "?,"
     "?Japanese pop record?
Kyo Sakamoto, "Sukiyaki,"
     7"
The Lucky Trio, "?,"
     ?Lucky Record?
Andy MacKay, "The Loyang Tractor Factory,"
     Resolving Contradictions
—,"?,"
     ?kids record
Sri Chimnoy,"Invocation,"
     Music For Meditation
Pia Srinivasan,"?,"
     Music For Vina, South India
Buddy Rich and Alla Rakha, "Rangeela,"
     Rich á la Rakha
Daniel Lentz, "Is It Love?" or "Wolf Is Dead..." (I can't remember),
     On The Leopard Alter
—, "?,"
     ?kids record?
Donovan, "I'll Try For The Sun" (with skip and double start),
     Fairy Tale
Blackbirds, "Golden Sun,"
     No Destination
Pharoah Sanders, "Japan,"
     Tauhid
John Tchicai & Strange Brothers, "Lost And Found,"
     John Tchicai & Strange Brothers
Ornette Coleman, "Friends And Neighbors (vocal),"
     Friends And Neighbors

The show lacked a bit of cohesion, but I'm happy without it came out. That Andy MacKay record is surprisingly good. And the Buddy Rich & Alla Rahka track is much better than I remember it being the first time I heard it.

CGYT on WHFR (2)

Come Get Your Tomorrow week number two aired yesterday on WHFR. The MP3 and playlist are below. I realize that since this post is immediately proceeded by the first CGYT post, I have clearly failed at my goal of posting once a week. It's partly because I have a bunch to do at work lately, and also that many of the records I've been listening to most lately are still available. I only want to post here records that are unavailable—both out of print and very hard to obtain.

Currently on repeat: Pete Seeger's soundtrack to Indian Summer which is available on CD, I believe, from the ever-in-print Folk Ways (or at least soon available as download from the Smithsonain), which combines great folk melodies on Banjo and rustic flute with sounds from the film such as dynamiting and barn-burning. Archie Shepp's Live at the Pan-African Festival, available on CD and vinyl (and probably MP3) from that label that keeps doing the BYG/Actuel reissues (sun-something? or is this one Get Back?), on which Shepp and I forget who else play soulful free jazz over north African drones and percussion. And John Tchicai and Strange Brother's self-titled release on the FMP label's sublabel, SAJ (FMP stands for Free Music Production and is Germany's most famous free jazz label; I don't know what SAJ stands for), which sounds very much like late 60s Ornette Coleman—fluid and somehow lyrical. The Shepp was on the last radio show. The Seeger is on this radio show. The Tchicai is not, though I had hoped to fit it in, so maybe next week.

CGYT on WHFR no. 2 (broadcast May 11th, 2008)

Playlist:

—, "Lion,"
     Sounds Of Our African Heritage
The Apollo Stars, "We're Moving In,"
     Power Of Source
Frank Lowe, "Chu's Blues,"
     Fresh
Kalaparusha Maurice McIntyre, "Sun Spots,"
     Forces And Feelings
—, "Elephant,"
     Sounds Of Our African Heritage
Oliver Lake, "Whap,"
     Passing Thru
Richard Landry, "4th Register,"
     A First Quarter
—, "Hippo,"
     Sounds Of Our African Heritage
George Lewis, "Triple Slow Mix,"
     Shadowgraph
Pete Seeger, "The Many Colored Paper,"
     Indian Summer
—,"Leopard" & "Vervet Monkey,"
     Sounds Of Our African Heritage

CGYT on WHFR (1)

I'll be preparing a weekly radio show for Washington Heights Free Radio (WHFR), a free-form pot-luck community internet radio station broadcast out of NYC.

The name of my show is Come Give Your Tomorrow (CGYT). You can hear it on WHFR by tuning in to whfr.org on Sundays at 4pm EST, which is 10pm CET.

I'll also be posting the mp3s here with an eventual podcast link to come.

CGYT on WHFR no. 1 (broadcast May 4th, 2008)

Playlist:

Van Q. Temple, "Down on the Highway,"
     "It's a Riot" no. 2: Allow Me To Demonstrate
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, "Celestial Bliss,"
     Prepare Thyself To Deal With A Miracle
Archie Shepp, "We Have Come Back Part 1,"
     Live At The Panafrican Festival
Van Q. Temple, "Black Power,"
     Allow Me . . .
ZANU choir, "Zvinozibwa ne ZANU,"
     Chimurenga Songs: Music of the Revolutionary
     People's War in Zimbabwe
Les Troubadours du Roi Baudouin, "Sanctus,"
     If... soundtrack 7"
Longfellow Martin Magarula, "The Freedom Of Africa,"
     Uhuru Wa Afrika
Pompey, "Vampire,"
     12"
Sonny Okosuns Ozziddi, "Mother & Child,"
     Mother & Child
Van Q. Temple, "King Of The Road,"
     Allow Me . . .
Eddy Grant, "Hello Africa,"
     Message Man
Van Q. Temple, "Grand Wizard,"
     Allow Me . . .

Imagine the Sound

Archie Shepp / Bill Dixon - Peace (BYG 196?, recorded 1962)

Yesterday, on my way from work I was listening to Archie Shepp and Bill Dixon's record Peace and noticed that what really makes it such a great record is the rhythm section. Or really the way the two lead men play against the rhythm section.

The record starts off with staccato melody from the leads—syncopated harmonies, Dixon out in front with flourishes, Shepp playing every other note and mixing in sax-growls. Shepp's skipping of notes in the melody reminds me a bit of Steve Lacy & Don Cherry's version of Thelonius Monk's "Evidence." Right off the bat the rhythm section provides the propulsion for the song: Paul Cohen lays down a tinkling metronome on the drums that accents the On/Off feel of the melody with three beats of symbol play followed by three full of snare. Don Moore alternates between two heavily plucked chords. Bludgeoning his bass from the sound of it. Really beating it and getting such a thick sound.

But then the melody tapers off and the end of the opening is signaled by one last heavy pluck from Moore. The song sets into its groove: Shepp drops out (the song is called "Trio"), Cohen plays an unceasing cymbal tick with the occasional snare accent, and Moore changes tack completely, playing a fast and funky walking bass line that is changed up occasionally for heavy beating of the bass and some high end frills. The rhythm section reminds me a lot of Ornette Coleman's "Friends and Neighbors" (a record that's also been on my turntable a lot lately). The momentum of the rhythm section in Coleman's song allows the chorus to sing a sloppy, playful pop song; here it allows Dixon to play a slow, clean solo full of drawn-out, austere notes. Shepp pops up a little ways into the solo, first grumbling and growling, like a little kid complaining he's not being heard, and then peeping a really catchy riff, like he's goating Dixon into quickening his pace. And Dixon responds: Shepp stops, Dixon plays a couple last long notes and then starts again, this time overblown and quicker.

Dixon ends his solo and drops out, Cohen reduces his playing down to a ringing ride, and Moore is back to alternating chords; then Shepp enters with barely-audible breathy growls. He proceeds to lay down one really soulful solo. He takes advantage of everyone nearly dropping out but Moore, and starts off really busy, nearly covering the full range of his sax. He brings the pace of the song up, not by making it faster, but by packing more notes into the measure. Moore catches up, playing harder, jumping around more. Cohen comes back in with much less subtlety, adding more snare, many more accents. Dixon comes in now and then, as Shepp did during his solo, but in juxtaposition to Shepp's accompaniment to his solo, he adds drawn out background notes to Shepp's chaos. It builds and builds and then it ends. Everyone comes together again to play the melody and then seems to collapse from exhaustion.

I don't wish to dissect every song and I think I've already said too much, so I think I'll just leave the rest of the record to be discovered without description.

I'm surprised that the recordings don't seem to be available anymore. The record was originally on Savoy, but the copy I have is on BYG. I'm surprised that whichever label is up to all the BYG/Actuel reissues hasn't hit this one yet. I've seen mention of a Savoy CD, but the Savoy Jazz website, Amazon, nor the internet in general turns up info on its availability. But there is another release: a split LP of the Bill Dixon 7-tette and Archie Shepp with the New York Contemporary 5, which is really good, but doesn't have Shepp and Dixon on any tracks together.

Shepp and Dixon both played in Cecil Taylor's group in the 60s appearing on some of his records, but never at the same time: Shepp was in the group briefly in 1960, and Dixon for a short while in the middle of the 60s. The only recording I know of them together is this record. An amazing record.

I Come In Rocking, I Come In Sweet

I've been traveling a bit recently. That meant an interruption to the regular posting schedule I had promised myself I would stick to. It also meant new records of the sort I don't usually find in Munich. I was in Hamburg for a week on work, and then New York City for two weeks on vacation.

Pompey - "Vampire" / "Rockin' Calypso" (Rix Records, 1985)

I picked up this record at Gimme Gimme records in NYC. Obviously, I pulled it out of the bin because of the cover, but I bought it because the songs are great. I regret that I didn't pick up This Is Soca, which was sitting next to it in the bin and is listed on the Pompey discography.

Pompey, as far as I can glean from the internet, was a Barbadian soca/calypso band of the early 80s. These tracks are arranged by Ed Watson, the producer credited with creating the soca sound—a sound most well known from "Hot Hot Hot" (yeah, the song Buster Poindexter covered).

Up until now, the only calypso I've owned/heard has been cheapo LPs of the stuff I imagine was (is still?) played in Barbados hotel lobbies. In fact, I think a couple of the LPs I have even advertise on their sleeves that they are from true hotel-proficient bands. It's good stuff, but it's not as grooving as this record. "Vampire" sounds like a weird mixture of the lite calypso I'm used to and early 80s digital reggae; except it's missing any sense of the bravado cool of such reggae. Plus it's about Caribbean calypso vampires. Best idea for a movie. (Has that movie already been made?)

Adoring Their Sweethearts And Abusing The Spanish Conqueror

Attention! Los Incas!

(cover image to come)

Where exactly is the line between world music and international music? By international music I mean basically field recordings of ethnomusicological interest—that is, true folk music played by local folk musicians. Of course, the idea of calling it international music instead of folk music is Western-Europe- / North-North-American-centric. Field recording is the term I prefer to use, since this seems to be applied to all regions and cultures, from East Asia to West Virginia, African tribes to Bahamanian Catholic churches. But is international music a broader category than just field recordings? (A lot of record stores have international sections where they also put famous musicians from non-western countries or even just non-english language singers. It's where you find, say, Ravi Shankar, or the lesser-known Frenchies. I'll leave this category aside, though.)

By world music I mean, well, that shit that hippies buy in Barnes and Noble or the Earth Store or the Body Shop. It's usually staged in a clean studio and often doesn't use local musicians. Some of the interesting international LPs I've bought, however, are also recorded in studios and I think some may use western musicians.

Attention! Los Incas! is definitely recorded in a studio, but there's no mention of who is playing on the record at all, aside from an implication that the group itself is called Los Incas. (Very little info is given, though it's mentioned that the recordings were made by German Phonogram in 1970/72.) I guess because much of the record is boring (though often at least enjoyable), I feel like I could easily categorize it as world music. World music also seems to have an element of exploitation, whereas international music should be about celebrating and preserving a great tradition (which is what field recordings are usually about, hopefully). Los Incas has the feel of exploitation, or western-voyeurism.

But I bought it, and transfered it and now post it here, because it has two standout tracks. "A la orillas del Titicaca" is a perfect pop song. I have listened to it over and over since buying the record. It's so simple. The percussion is barely there, sounding like just a faint banging on a tight drum head, but it still manages to give the song such propulsion. On top of that is just two stringed instruments: one high pitched, accenting the beat with an alternating pluck strum pluck strum; one higher pitched, arpeggiating a melody from the chords. The strings sounds so tight and tinkly that they could be from a harpsichord. Maybe it is a harpsichord (though it sounds plucked). And that's the instrumentation: two plucked string-instruments (guitars? mandolins?) and a tom drum; and then a soothing voice.

"Jilicatas" has the same basic percussion sound, but much more of it. So much more that it has a martial feel. It's also so very simple: pounding drums, two breathy woodwinds (flutes? panpipes?) skidding along on the same melody not exactly in sync with each other, and some yelps. It's downright experimental sounding. I could pass this off as a Herds and Words recording. It's unfortunate that the track is only 1 minute 30, especially since the sleeve says it's an excerpt. The label (Fontana?!) could have cut out all the other tracks and given me 20 more minutes of "Jilicatas," I would have enjoyed that much more.

German Interlude

I'm in Hamburg for a week, so no access to my record player, so no transfers at he moment—though I have a couple of Latin American discs I really want to transfer when I get back. In the meantime, here's one of my favorite recent pop reviews. It compares the new adioheadray album to trying to have sex on the beach with some dude you just met (and failing) while on vacation with your parents. (English and/or pictographic translation to come.)

Mallorca-Sand im Po

Die neue Radiohead-Platte sollte man im Urlaub hören. Denn jeder Urlaub geht vorbei.

Wie mit einer Urlaubsbekanntschaft am Strand zu fummeln, so ist die neue Radiohead-Platte. Man hat sich am Buffet der Halbpension kennen gelernt, man hatte nichts gegeneinander einzuwenden, außerdem herrschte Langeweile am Ballermann. Also ist man gemeinsam an den Strand und will im Zehnerschritt zum Ziel. 43 Minuten bleiben noch bis zum Hotel-Abendessen, also genauso so lang wie die zehn Songs des neuen Radiohead-Album „In Rainbows“. Die erste Annäherung des Urlaubsflirts heißt„15 Steps“ ist noch sehr maschinell: eine Drum-Maschine plus eine klinische Gitarre plus wirre Synthesizer und Effekte - verständlich, die Nervosität. Die legt sich ein bisschen mit „Body Snatchers“: das Schlagzeug ist jetzt echt, die Effekte dafür echt zu viel. Er macht auf grob und irritiert, der nette Junge. Bei „Nude“ kann von Berührung unterhalb der Ellenbogen immer noch keine Rede sein, aber er macht stimmlich auf schwarzen Jungen mit einer Sammlung von String Synthesizern im Keller, obwohl er gerade aus Großbritannien angekommen ist und noch käseweiß. Man vermutet, er weiß nicht, wie man „Mellotron“ buchstabiert. Auch bei „Weird Fishes/Arpeggi“ ist er kommt er aus dem Vorspiel nicht heraus: sanfter R’n’B. Es riecht nach Vanille. Der Geruch geht auch während des nächsten Stücks „All I Need“ nicht weg, doch dann. Bei „Faust Arp“ riecht der Sand plötzlich nach Heu: Eine Country-Gitarre! Und seine Stimme – wie aus einem gelben U-Boot dringt sie ans Ohr. Ja, und mit „Reckoner“ geht es nun endlich zur Sache. Scheinbar. Das Schlagzeug ist gut, das verheimlicht man schlauerweise nicht, um ihn anzufeuern. Doch prompt fällt er mit „House Of Cards“ ins Süßholz-Raspeln zurück. Bei „Jigsaw Falling Into Place“ nimmt er gar noch eine akustische Gitarre dazu. Leider hat er sein Shirt hat immer noch an, und man ist schon beim zehnten Song „Videotape“ angelangt. Wurde man etwa gefilmt?! Nun denn, es ist ja eh nichts Nennenswertes passiert. Und wenigstens müsste das Abendessen jetzt fertig sein. Vermutlich hielt er einen für ein Schulmädchen, die so etwas bräuchte. Doch so war man leider vor zehn Jahren, 1997, drauf – zu einer Zeit, als der Junge auch noch besser musizierte.

Perfect Teeth 3.3.8

This Sunday I had my second DJ night at Favorit Bar. This one's a little shorter than last time, but has no repeats. And very little pop. I'm gettin' there.

Tape 1 Side A (62:00, 57 MB)

The Malinke, "Solo for the Seron,"
     Music and Dances of Occidental Africa
Don Cherry & Ed Blackwell, "Makondi," El Corazón
John Coltrane, "Vigil," Transition
Eric Dolphy, "The Baron," Out There
Sunny Murray, "An Even Break (Never Give a Sucker),"
     An Even Break (Never Give a Sucker)
Pharoah Sanders, "The Creator Has A Master Plan," Karma
Bohannon, "Save Their Souls," 7"
Miles Davis, "On The Corner," On The Corner
Albert Ayler, "Free At Last," 7"
Don Covay, "Boomerang," See-Saw
Bobby Doyle, "The Girl Done Got It Together,"
     Fluchtpunkt San Franzisko
Sonny Okosuns Ozziddi, "Mother & Child," Mother & Child


Tape 1 Side B (62:00, 57 MB)

Sonny Okosuns Ozziddi, "Mother & Child," Mother & Child
Hugh Masakela, "The Boy's Doin' It," The Boy's Doin' It
Osibisa, "The Dawn," Osibisa
Art Ensemble of Chicago, "Theme De Yoyo," Les Stances a Sophie
Do You Understand The Word, "Help," Endless Journey Phase 3
Bo Hansson, "Black Riders,"
     Music Inspired By Lord Of The Rings
The Deep Freeze Mice, "No. 9," Obscure Independent Classics Vol. 1
The Chrysanthemums, "The Cheeping of the Robot Bees,"
     Little Flecks of Foam Around Barking
Jowe Head, "Cake Shop Girl," 7"
Beat Happening, "Cast A Shadow (live)," Diamonds and Porcupines
The Raincoats, ""No Side To Fall In," The Raincoats
Elton Motello, "Jet Boy Jet Girl," Victim of Time
Yen Artists, "God Be With Us Till We Meet Again," Yen Memorial
Acryl baby, "Iris Underground,"
     Obscure Independent Hits Vol. 4 (Special Japanese Edition)
John Carpenter, "The End (Remix)," 12"
Glenn Branca, "Lesson No. 1," Lesson No. 1


Tape 2 Side A (60:17, 55 MB)

Glenn Branca, "Lesson No. 1," Lesson No. 1
Rhys Chatham, "For Brass," Factor X
Mars, "Helen Fordsdale," No New York
Carsick Cars, "Rock'n'Roll Hero," 7"
Los Fabulosos 3 Paraguayos, "Atardecer," Volume 5
Os Teleco Teco, "Regina,"
     Toute L'Amerique Latine: chants et danses
Os Teleco Teco, "Peixe Vivo,"
     Toute L'Amerique Latine: chants et danses
Folk Musicians, "A las orillas del Titicaca," Los Incas!
Los Parra De Chillan, "Cachumbo,"
     Toute L'Amerique Latine: chants et danses
Folk Musicians, "Danza," Musical Atlas: Mexico
Baoule, "Duet for Flutes," Music and Dances of Occidental Africa
Laurie Spiegel, "Drums," The Capriccio Series Of New American Music
Mike Oldfield, "Blood Sucking," The Killing Fields
Philip Glass, "Vessels," Koyaanisqatsi
Megan Roberts, "I Could Sit Here All Day,"
     New Music For Electronic And Recorded Media
Petula Clark, "Downtown," Petula Clark

While listening to the tapes on headphones in order to write down the tracks played, a few things occur to me:
—The low-end sax sounds on "Boomerang" are great. I love that sound of what seems to be multiple baritone saxophones (maybe tenors) that shows up in a lot of 60s soul/rnb, like on the Supremes stuff.
—Eric Dolphy was using strings in a really interesting way a good 5 years before Albert Ayler or Ornette Coleman was.
—It's impossible not to tap your foot rapidly while listening to Help's "Do You Understand The Word." It's down to the four on the floor beat, and the fact that the bass line is syynched to it almost unflinchingly.

Rather Complicated Steps, Contortions, and Very Rapid Sudden Breaks

Music and Dances of Occidental Africa

(Photo to come)

When I find records as good as this one, I start to wonder how a record store could think to sell it for only 3 bucks. Folkways recordings usually go for at least 5 or 7 euros (though sometimes more). And most of them are dull and often poorly recorded. This record was released by the Olympic Records Corporation (200 West 57th Street, NYC) in 1974, and is part of the Atlas Series ("Music from around the world"). It's not just interesting and well recorded, it's also groovy and catchy.

The recordings on the first side are all made in Guinea. They are folk songs of the Malinké people. The first track, "Festival Music," sounds like a Steve Reich recording from the early 70s: a pop song built from simple xylophone lines repeated by three players accompanied by a chorus of women. Most of the tracks feature a large chorus singing in unison. But there's also a highly syncopated drum track—there's always at least one on these African field recording records—and "Solo for the Seron," which sounds like an African take on delta blues.

The recordings on the second side are all made in the Ivory Coast and are the songs of the Baoulé people. The liner notes to the record describe the Malinké as being strict puritanical people and the Baoulé as ostentatious. It's kinda odd, then, that the music from the first side is so festive, while the music from the second side is so much more reserved. "Duet for Flutes" sounds like a somber piece from Oliver Lake and Julius Hemphill's Buster Bee. Most of the second side is solos and duets, and even the choral song is quite relaxed—more about harmonizing than expressing overjoy. Not that this side doesn't also have its festive moments: it opens and closes with festival music full of hand percussion and large choruses.

Twelve Sine Tone Generators and a Bizarre Delay Technique

Nummer drei: the DHFI's Hörtest- und Meßplatte

This probably should have been the first record I posted, since it measures the quality of the stereo system used to transfer everything else. The DHFI is the Deutsche High-Fidelity Institut. This is one of those records one is supposed to use to test out and calibrate his hifi setup. I've been wanting one of these records for a long while—because I imagined the sounds and the instructional narration would be awesome. They are. Especially so in German.

You can hear that my system is not very good with very low and very high frequencies. My speakers were even less capable than everything else, as there are tones that were recorded by the computer that didn't make it out the speakers. I also discovered that there's an approximately 1 to 2 dB discrepancy between my left and right channels (haven't pinpointed the source yet, but I have managed to compensate for it). Neato, right?

Forgetting it's a calibration record, one can imagine it's a Richard Maxfield or Pauline Oliveros composition. It lacks the artful structuring (the actual hand of the composer or performer) of minimalist electronic composition; but that's precisely what allows it to be more minimalist than minimalism—there's no worry about putting in too much structure, when the structure is dictated by the purpose. 'Course, it's probably bullshit to analyze the artistic value of a test-record.

Take Up The Gun And Establish Self-Rule

Transfer #2: The ZANU Choir's Pamberi ne Chimurenga

(back cover)

ZANU is the Zimbabwe African National Union, the political wing of the Maoist faction of the majority-rule movement in Zimbabwe in the 1970s; the militant wing being ZANLA, the Zimbabwe African National Liberation Army. They and ZAPU—the Zimbabwe African People's Union, the Soviet backed faction (with its Zimbabwe People's Revolutionary Army, ZIPRA)—used song to stir up the masses. "Chimurenga" is shona for "struggle"; these are songs of the struggle.

This LP, recorded in the soldier camps sometime in the 1970s, most likely in Mozambique (see Thomas Turino's Nationalists, Cosmopolitans, and Popular Music in Zimbabwe for info, especially pp. 206–207), contains folk songs, church songs and European choral music with the words changed to spread the revolutionary message. The idea was to use songs familiar to the people, allowing for easy teaching. Most songs are purely vocal, since instruments were not widely available in the soldier's camps; but a few have really great hand percussion.

My favorite track is the first one, "Zvinozibwa NeZANU," apparently hymn-based, according to Turino. It tells the story of ZANU:

of how "The sons and daughters of Zimbabwe came together to form a Party," and how they "chose Mugabe to lead the people." It told how "after our leaders left the country, we followed them, one by one in small groups until there were many of us." The song tells of how nationalist leaders were jailed and murdered, and concludes, "Now we are armed to the teeth, Our soliders are spoiling for a fight" (Turino, p. 211)

Come Give Your Tomorrow

I have a real record player for the first time in over three years. Two actually. A mixer, an amplifier and now also two cassette recorders/players. Since coming to Germany, aside from DJing at bars, or going over to a friend's place, I've been listening to my records on either shitty plastic Telefunken Hit 2000s or my trusty (though no-fi) Phillips UFO. But now I have a real hifi system with—and this is the first time in my life I've had this—real speakers. Like big speakers. Speakers I can annoy neighbors with, if I choose to. My friend Bernd just recently had his first child, and moved around apartments, and needed to make space, and so he's lent/given me all this equipment and it's awesome.

I used to transfer all my records to my computer for listening to on the go (until my ipod died) and for sharing with friends. Especially the odd items which you could never expect to download from any p2p network. I was using the shitty telefunkens (the only record players I had with outputs) to do the transfers; so the quality was beyond poor. I even continued when my work computer's left-input stopped working and I had to transfer everything in mono. But then I bought a computer of my own, and was able to search the p2p networks for most of what I bought on vinyl. And my shitty telefunkens all broke, one after another. So I stopped.

Since I can finally transfer records to the computer with real fidelity, I've started again. And I plan to put the odd, rare items (mostly field recordings) up on this blag.

First up: Roy Ayers - "If I Were A Carpenter" / "All Blues" (1968)

  


I bought this a few months ago at a shop in Munich. I think what caught my eye was Sonny Sharrock in the cover photo. It's a 45 rpm 12"; something I haven't seen before in jazz. It's pressed in Japan, and all the details of the recordings are in Japanese. I figured these tracks had to show up on a compilation of Ayers' material from this time period, but I don't see mention of it anywhere on the web.

It's recorded as a quartet (the Roy Ayers Quartet 2): Roy Ayers on vibes, Miroslav Vitous on bass, Bruno Carr on drums, and "Sony" (sic) Sharrock on guitar. Both songs are really sparse with no one musician laying down a rhythm or keeping time alone throughout. Though you can feel a regular tempo on both (though not always on "All Blues"), it's hard to pinpoint where it comes from. The musicians trade off little lines that keep the tempo, without one person holding it for very long—an interesting way to be free. Neither the drums nor the bass serve a pure rhythm function: Carr comes in and out, with frequent heavy crashes, providing texture and the occasional time keeping. Vitous basically solos the whole time. Occasionally he and Ayers hint at the melody of "If I Were A Carpenter," but the song provides mostly just a guide for (nearly) free improvisation. Sonny Sharrock is awesome as usual, alternating thick hard-strummed texture and quiet background-noodling.

Looking for info online (I didn't find anything substantial), I found that Herbie Mann (who "presents" this 12") recorded a version of "If I Were A Carpenter" for his 1968 album Windows Opened. Roy Ayers, Miroslav Vitous, Bruno Carr, and Sonny Sharrock—aka the Roy Ayers Quartet 2—are Herbie Mann's band. It's really interesting to compare the two versions. Herbie Mann's is a straight jazzed cover of the Tim Hardin song. It's not bad. Actually, it's quite good. Ayers, Vitous, Carr, and Sharrock lay down such a solid, thick, well-textured rhythm; but that's all they do. As Herbie Mann solos around the melody, they never depart from their rhythmic roles. Quite a contrast to the Ayers 12" version.

(Windows Opened is overall not bad. I rather like the cover of "There Is A Mountain," which is possibly Donovan's best song. The band achieves a nice groove on most of the songs, due to the great rhythm section.)

Perfect Teeth 22.1.8

It's been quite a while since I posted to this blag. In my defense, I'll say that I had to write a masters thesis (it's done) and had other things on my plate. It's not that I didn't have the time to spend on it. I did. But that if I spent the time on it, I would have felt guilty for not spending the time on my thesis.

However, that is done. My New Year's resolution (aside from not burning my mouth) is to update this blog more often. Not only with the long entries I've put up so far, but also with short entries.

Here's the first short one:

I DJed for the first time in a while this last Tuesday at a bar in Munich. When selecting the records I was gonna bring with me, I used the guiding principle No Pop. I did bring some pop though. Mostly new stuff (and some old post-punk). Animal Collective, Panda Bear, No Age, and Black Dice, certainly; each of which I played twice—something I try never to do when playing records for other people. Otherwise, all I brought was jazz, some minimalism, some kraut, and a few ethnomusicology field recording records.

I taped the evening and transfered the cassettes to mp3s. Four sides. Approximately 3 1/2 hours of music.

Tape 1 Side A (61:22, 56 MB)

Frank Hannaway & Michael Barclay, "untitled," At Home!
Laurie Spiegel, "Patchwork," The Expanding Universe
Quando Quango, "Love Tempo (Mix)," Love Tempo 12"
The Flying Lizards, "Move On Up," Move On Up 7"
Maximum Joy, "Building A Bridge," Green & White 7"
Ludus, "Mother's Hour," Patient 7"
New Age Steppers, "My Love," My Love 7"
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, "Volunteered Slavery," The Atlantic Years
The Apollo Stars, "We're Moving In," Power Of Source
Anthony Braxton, "Comp. 40 M," Five Pieces 1975
Oliver Lake, "Africa," Ntu: The Point from Which Freedom Begins
Archie Shepp / Bill Dixon, "Peace," Peace


Tape 1 Side B (61:25, 56 MB)

Archie Shepp / Bill Dixon, "Peace," Peace
Ornette Coleman, "School Work," Broken Shadows
Elvin Jones & Jimmy Garrison Sextet, "Aboriginee Dance in Scotland,"
     Illumination
Les Percussions Africaines, "Rhythme Douda," Par Guem
Steve Reich, "Part II," Tehilim
Group 180, "Etude For Three Mirrors," Group 180
Laurie Spiegel, "Appalachian Grove I,"
     New Music For Electronic And Recorded Media
Black Dice, "Drool," Roll Up / Drool 12"
Animal Collective, "Chores," Strawberry Jam
No Age, "Everybody's Down," Get Hurt 12"
Panda Bear, "Good Girl + Carrots," Person Pitch
Tussle, "Eye Contact (Version)," 12"
Animal Collective, "Peacebone," Strawberry Jam


Tape 2 Side A (61:32, 56 MB)

biting tongues, "R.R.O.R.," Don't Heal
Manicured Noise, "Free Time," Free Time 7"
Blurt, "The Ruminant Plinth," Blurt
Fela, "Zombie," Zombie
Mulatu Astatke, "Emnete," 10"
Longfellow Martin Magarula, "The Freedom of Africa," Uhuru Wa Afrika
The Apollo Stars, "The Power of Source," Power Of Source
Pharoah Sanders, "Japan," Tauhid
Floh de Cologne, "Arbeit Macht Freitag + Wenn Springer Mal Rülpst,"
     Fließbandbabys Beat-Show
Birth Control, "Gamma Ray (Part II)," Gamma Ray 7"
Can, "Father Cannot Yell," Monster Movie
Blackbirds, "Golden Sun," No Destination
Kyu Sakamoto, "Sukiyaki," Sukiyaki 7"
A Certain Ratio, "Do The Du," Do The Du 7"
Rocketship, "Get On The Floor (And Move It),"
     Get On The Floor (And Move It) 7"
Ad Infinitum, "Telstar," Telstar 7"
Minnipops, "Island," Secret Story / Island 7"


Tape 2 Side B (33:19, 31 MB)

Laurie Anderson, "O Superman," O Superman 7"
Philip Glass, "Music With Changing Parts," Music With Changing Parts
Black Dice, "Roll Up," Roll Up / Drool 12"
The Good Good, "Tremblina + We Go," Split 12"
A Certain Ratio, "Knife Slits Water," Knife Slits Water 7"
Richard Maxfield, "Night Music," New Sounds In Electronic Music
Panda Bear, "Take Pills," Person Pitch
Animal Collective, "Derek," Strawberry Jam
No Age, "Every Artist Needs A Tragedy," 7"

Pigeonholing the Style

I think there are two schools of thought on how to define genres in music (or really anything). Most people define a genre as a set of qualities, and pieces of music with those qualities belong to the genre. In this way, a genre can be highly specific—strictly defined, so that all music belonging to the genre must have all the qualities associated with the genre; or very general—either it has very few defining qualities or very few of the defining qualities must be present in a piece for one to consider it part of the genre.

This way of describing music is lazy. Most commonly-used genre names go undefined, and critics who employ them tend to use them however they want, letting genre X stand for whatever bolsters their statement at that moment. Most attempts at defining a genre rely heavily on examples. Most arguments over genre definitions are really just arguments over what performers/pieces belong to the genre. And most statements about music that rely heavily on genres defined in this way, are basically meaningless (if not circular).

This is why I prefer the reverse direction in defining a genre. I define a genre simply by the bands one would describe as making music in that genre. I don't mean here that I use the example bands to grasp the concept of the particular genre. I define genre X as being the set of pieces of music {x}. Any discussion of what all the pieces have in common consists then of valuable statements, rather than simple semantics.

Of course, there's then the question of how to choose which pieces are in the group that is defined as the genre. And here's where I think this way of defining genre is more valuable: it's all historical. The first method of defining genre assumes that you can always describe music by abstract concepts; that the most meaningful statements about a piece of music are made when pulled out of its historical context. This is why it's most useful for the average music listener. He doesn't care about the historical context of music. He wants a lazy descriptor, because generally when he says something pertaining to music he doesn't intend to say something about music.

But music is always contextual, and it's always important to know the history of the musicians involved, when one wants to really know about the music. And with any genre of music, there are always cores of musicians—scenes—and locations where these people are. There is still the full spectrum of strictness. Early-80s-Boston-hardcore—defined by what bands are considered early 80s Boston hardcore—is relatively specific (strict) compared to simply 80s-hardcore.

In some sense, I suppose the real difference between the two ways of defining genre is a change from subjective qualities to objective qualities. Fast, loud, and aggressive are highly subjective. Being from Boston, making music in the early 80s, releasing your records through certain labels and playing concerts with certain other bands are all pretty objective.

The genre definitions are still subjective, because whoever defines the genre chooses which objective qualities it consists of. But this is at least more like a perfect language like mathematics in which, say, an algebra is defined by its commutation relations. You can choose the commutation relations freely, but once they are chosen, the algebra is defined.

I won't say that such music discussions are generally as objective as mathematics, but this way of describing music does eliminate a lot of the filler. I had this topic in my head because I've been reading a lot of definitions of what minimalist music is. In an attempt to keep the posts short, I'll leave that as the topic of the next one.

The tempo is fast. The length is determined by the player.

I've been rereading Keith Potter's Four Musical Minimalists—about La Monte Young, Terry Riley, Steve Reich, and Philip Glass. The first time around I only read the sections on Young and Riley. While they both have written good and interesting music, I'm not that familiar with their works and have been disappointed by maybe half of what I've heard. Reading a couple hundred somewhat-dense pages about something I wasn't that interested in led me to stop halfway through. I picked it up again recently, started this time with the chapter on Reich, and found the book to be much better than I had remembered.

Minimalism is so often summed up as being Young, Riley, Reich, and Glass. In that order. Potter emphasizes the order: Young composed Trio for Strings (1958), kicking it all off. Riley was out on the west coast, drew from Young's long drawn out slow processes, and wrote pieces like In C (1964). Reich lived down the street from Riley out in SF, helped to organize the first performance of In C, performing in the group (along with two Mills classmates who go on to be in the Grateful Dead. wha?). Reich then wrote pieces like Piano Phase (1967). Reich moved to NYC. Glass moved to NYC. The two met, shared ideas, and formed an ensemble together. Glass then composed pieces like Music in 12 Parts (1971).

Potter is really into that. Surprisingly so, given the statements of the composers (Both Reich and Glass wrote books about their own music). Reich claims to have not heard any of Young's pieces before composing much of his taped phasing pieces. His ideas on phasing are way more important in the development of his music up to 1971/2 then what he may have taken from his interactions with Riley. He also says he can't remember whether he saw any of Young's scores when he was a student.

Glass says he never heard any of Young's music until he moved to NYC in the late 1960s. And what he did see, though impressing him a lot, was a piece from Young's Composition 1960 series which was more performance art than music. (The piece in particular was #7, "Draw a Straight Line and Follow It," which on that evening was Riley swinging a pendulum, waiting for it to stop and then drawing a line in chalk on the floor. It lasted over three hours.) He, like many, didn't hear Riley's In C until it came out on record in 1968. Glass had also already composed very simple minimalist pieces while he was living in Paris in the mid 60s. Pieces like his work for the staging of Becket's play Play, which was just a simple two note pattern played by soprano saxophone accompanied by a taped recording of the same. And when he returned to NYC he composed pieces like Strung Out (1967) probably before getting to know Reich. He also says that when they shared an ensemble, pieces were always finished before they were practiced, and idea swapping was not very important.

Of course, artists always want to take all the credit for innovations. Just look at Young and his assertions that the free improvised one-note drone pieces performed by a group of composers including himself, Tony Conrad, Angus Maclise and John Cale are entirely his intellectual property. Concerning true innovation in music, I tend to take the "it's in the air" view. It was just the time for these developments in music. While I do think these composers were all influenced by each other (once a community started to develop), I don't know if I'm so ready to believe all the connections Potter makes. He also leaves out so any composers. Focusing on those 4 ignores the large community of minimalist composers that existed.

Originally I thought I'd write about Reich and Glass in parallel installments in order to keep my entries shorter. I chose those two because I know almost all their works from the beginnings of their careers up to well beyond when they become established; because I know their biographies well; because they were the first two minimalist composers I listened to; and because I believe they are two of the most important (and best) composers of the 20th century. (They are also the two most famous late 20th century composers, aside from soundtrack composers like John Williams.) Maybe, though, I'll just write shorter entries on the pieces I'm listening to at the moment and the new ones I'm discovering as I do more reading into the history of Minimalism, Post-Minimalism, Totalism and Maximalism. I worry that doing that will cause this blag to become like the first one I wrote for, i.e. full of highly colloquial entries with not much compositional forethought (read: lots of "awesome"). Hopefully that won't happen.

In the last post, I wrote that one of the reasons I liked free jazz was because it involved a community similar to that of punk. The Minimalist community also has much in common with the punk community. Most people with the power to release records didn't "get" the new emerging style, and it was often a hard fight to get music out on record. David Behrman curated (and produced) a seminal series of releases for Columbia Records, Music of Our Time, which included Riley's In C, Reich's Come Out, the works of other great composers just getting recognized at that time (e.g. Oliveros, Maxfield, Ichiyanagi) and the works of some older more established composers (e.g. Cage, Feldman).

(One of the best records I ever jacked from my dad's collection turns out to be part of Behrman's series. It's a M.O.O.T. promotional 7" aimed at fans of psychedelic/outside rock. It juxtaposes excerpts from big hit psychedelic tunes with excerpts from Come Out, some Stockhausen, some Babbitt, and others. It has a great announcer talking between the excerpts about the exciting new times in music. I used to play bits of it all the time for transitions on my radio show and mixtapes.)

But that's the only effort by a large label that I know of. A lot of musicians pressed records themselves, like Glass did for his own Chatham Square label.

More importantly, shows ("performances," but c'mon that's such a pretentious term) were so often presented in people's apartments or in small art galleries. However, avant-garde academic music lacked the anti-establishment beliefs of both free jazz and punk, and composers took any chance they could to perform in established venues (a lot seem to happen in the Guggenheim and the Whitney, as well as at BAM) or get grants. But then, the free-jazzers and punks didn't turn down the big-time when it came knocking.

Here is a partial list of composers I've been listening to lately or reading about: Steve Reich, Philip Glass, Anthony Moore, Gavin Bryars, Wim Mertens, Phil Niblock, Michael Nyman, Charlemagne Palestine, Harold Budd, Richard Maxfield, John Adams, Philip Corner, John White, Rhys Chatham, Glenn Branca, Arnold Dreyblatt, Jon Gibson, Meredith Monk, Pauline Oliveros, Tom Johnson (also a good critic), Barbara Benary, William Duckworth, Ingram Marshall, Julius Eastmann. I'll hopefully tackle short posts on individual works or short time periods in the careers of these people.

If anyone has recommendations of more people for me to add to my list, please let me know—it's not that easy to find information on this movement in music yet. I've only found a handful of books that focus on it (Mertens and Niblock both wrote books in the 70s which look good, though I haven't read them yet); but that are some websites focused on small groups of composers or substyles, and most active composers maintain somewhat helpful websites (Niblock and Bryars come to mind right away).

Because I enjoy quoting, I leave you with the only light/humorous statement in Potter's book (though it could just be he's a dick): "Glass does not give a fully composed score [to 1+1, *(1968)]; instead, he offers just two basic 'rythmic units' (sic; like many musicians, Glass seemingly cannot spell 'rhythm') . . . ."